Tag Archives: Sonnet

Near Miss – NaPoWriMo 2019 #29

Near Miss

Like a cool whisper death passed by one day
I felt his stale breath inside my ear
though I will come for you, I heard death say
this is a taste for now… nothing to fear
but fear I did, if you could call it that
the hair on my bare neck stood stiff and tall
I didn’t realize it then, in fact,
how close I was to danger all in all
I felt the rush of something…was it wind?
that shifted me out of the semi’s path
averting a collision much to death’s chagrin
I’ve no doubt angels spared me from his wrath

I shudder to this day each time I see
the street where death revealed himself to me!


Another Sonnet for NaPoWriMo 2019 Prompt #29: produce a poem that meditates, from a position of tranquility, on an emotion you have felt powerfully.


When I Remember, Missing – NaPoWriMo 2019 #27

When I Remember, Missing

When it is quiet, thoughts swirl in my head,
The memories of a long forgotten past
Tinged with regret, rememb’ring dreams now dead;
Time slips away so quickly, our fates are cast;
Tears well up in my eyes when I think upon
Dear friends who’ve passed away, oh how I miss them;
The pain, just as fresh as when I heard they’d gone,
Too soon, before I had time to make amends;
It’s the words I didn’t say that haunt me most;
Sometimes I say what I would have told them then
And hope that they are listening somewhere close,
I’ve heard the veil’s thin ‘tween here and heaven;
But if I dwell on the best of times we had,
I feel them in my heart; how can I be sad? 


A sonnet re-penned, inspired by Shakespeare’s Sonnet #30 (see below), on prompt for NaPoWriMo 2019 #27.  

Sonnet #30
By William Shakespeare

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,
And weep afresh love’s long since cancell’d woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish’d sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor’d and sorrows end.


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